


Advanced Masochism 101:  How to Be Oblivious to the Obvious

by seperis



Series: Advanced Masochism [2]
Category: Smallville
Genre: Gen, preslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-03-23
Updated: 2002-03-23
Packaged: 2017-12-13 15:06:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/825695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seperis/pseuds/seperis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Lex is trapped in a nightmarish world of giving dating advice to Clark.  With homemade cookies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Advanced Masochism 101:  How to Be Oblivious to the Obvious

**Author's Note:**

> Because I was asked. Because I had nothing better to do. Because I promised.

It was--night. Very--dark. Stars out. Theoretically, the combination was both romantic and probably quite beautiful, and Lex would have been far more appreciative of nature and so forth if a certain boy wasn't seated just a few inches away, also seemingly lost in the wonders of the night. 

Clark. Clark, Clark, Clark, Lex's very special, very near-guilty pleasure, lounging like something out of a particularly expensive centerfold, beautiful and silent and--young.

Young. Remember that, Lex. Think of small prison cells and unwashed cellmates named Bubba and Sam the Snake and Theo, who lack basic hygiene skills. Think of prison food. Think of the fact that orange is *not* your color. 

Two words, Lex--public showers.

Looking at Clark was almost enough to dissolve the theoretical, however, and Lex clung to the images of orange coveralls with all his considerable will. Laying on the hood of his Ferrari, sharing two sodas, a bag of Mrs. Kent's cookies, and the sort of comfortable silence that only seemed to appear when least expected, Lex considered the night was probably one of his better since arriving in Smallville.

Bracing against the windshield, Lex reached out and Clark handed over the bag. Lex's cook never made cookies. And Lex hadn't been permitted use of the oven since a small experiment had gone very wrong and resulted in the kitchen being unusable for over a week.

And to think he thought he owned the castle. Right. Even a glimpse of his face was enough for the cook to make threatening gesture with her overly-large wooden spoon, overly-large bosom heaving, and Lex wasn't sure if it was the spoon or those breasts that scared him more.

Either way, he kept out now. Hence, cookies with Clark, just beside the Kent barn, and it really was a pretty night. 

"Lex, you've dated, right?"

For a second, Lex tried to imagine that Clark was going to ask him anything but what he suspected Clark had been working up the courage to talk about all night. Taking a breath, Lex let it go.

All right. He could do this.

"Yes." Depending on how one interpreted the word 'date' in some of those instances. Ah, the nineties were a *good* decade. "Anything in specific you have in mind?"

The hood creaked threateningly as Clark shifted, obviously uncomfortable, and Lex rolled onto his side, watching in interest as Clark rearranged over-long limbs into some semblance of order. The hazel eyes were fixed firmly on an insignificant spot in the middle of the yard that might or might not once have had grass growing there, and he was chewing on the cookie as if it would give him some new insight into the human mind.

Clark needed insight into the human mind--badly--if he could possibly be missing what amounted to being several months of the least subtle behavior Lex had ever displayed in his life, and Lex was counting the times on Ecstacy when he'd been known to remove clothing to get the point across. It was actually becoming somewhat tempting to simply push the boy down on his back and make the facts apparent the old fashioned way--

\--oh so tempting. And so illegal. No, Your Honor, I swear it was totally innocent until I tripped over him on the hood of the car. Total accident. This is *Smallville*, your honor. These things happen. You take checks? Vehicles? Pictures of said boy? 

Crap.

"Lana." Almost a whisper, as if it would profane her name if he spoke it too loudly on the night air. As if the sky itself was that damned interested in this maudlin high school crush and God, had he ever acted like this? In his life? 

This night sucked. And it wasn't supposed to--Clark alone, check; Kent parents off at Anti-Luthor meeting, check; junk food, check; cell phone left at home, check; nice night, check.

Lana Lang had *not* been on that checklist.

"Ah. Getting nowhere, I take it?"

Plan A--necklace, failed. Plan B--Radiohead tickets, failed. Plan C-- birthday party escort, failed. Plan D-- Lex talk to Lana, failed. This was just--surreal. Utterly and completely and Plan E was still waiting on a call from General Sherman for the restoration of the draft so Whitney could enjoy some quality time in boot camp. Somehow, he didn't think *that* would be forthcoming anytime soon, and Plan F--my God, had he ever needed so much of the alphabet to get something accomplished?

He must be losing his touch. Or Clark was the single most incompetent stalker on the planet, which was also a distinct possibility.

"She--I think she likes me and all, and I know--at least, I think she likes spending time with me. We're--we're working on an English project together, you know."

No, Lex hadn't known, and my, what a lovely thought to brood over at night with some high quality alcohol and why again did he suddenly decide not to use narcotics anymore? Imagining Lana practicing that scintillating wit on Clark and him grinning back like the sweet little dork he was--that was the sort of thing that drug use was damn well *invented* to circumvent.

Fuck it, this was *not* a pretty night, and Lex wondered if it was too late to head into Metropolis so this Friday wasn't a total waste.

Lex. Hated. Smallville.

"--but I'm not sure, you know, how."

"Hmm?" Apparently, self-pity had made him miss part of the conversation. How annoying. Blinking, Lex turned and met very clear, very determined hazel eyes in a *very* flushed face. Enough to bring down even Lex's elevated annoyance. "I'm sorry--what did you say?"

"I want to kiss her." In a rush of breath, and Clark slumped back into the windshield, doing morose with so much style that Calvin Klein could design a fashion show based on it. "She--but--I had this chance and I--I froze."

Clark had a chance to kiss her? What on *earth* was Lana thinking, to--do exactly what Lex wanted her to do. Closing his eyes, Lex took a breath. Maybe Plan E wouldn't be necessary after all (his bank account would be happy at least), but fuck, that meant....

Why, Clark wouldn't need him for anything at all.

"I mean--the only person I've really kissed was Tina--"

"Tina?" Was Clark wandering around Smallville kissing young women at random? He should really be keeping better track of these things.

"The girl--shapeshifting girl."

Ah, Tina. That girl. Lex took a moment to think about her--the sheer indecent possibilities inherent and she'd *liked* money, apparently. Hmm. Damn. But--

"You kissed her?"

Clark blew out a breath in something like disgust.

"She was pretending to be Lana."

Ahh. That--was weird. Welcome to Smallville, Lex. You get a crush on the produce boy, the produce boy makes out with a homicidal Lana look-alike, and they both are card-carrying members of the Stalk-Lana Society. Yes, this was just fucking hysterical. Someone, somewhere, should be calling this in to the more decadent of the daytime talk shows. Maury Povich, perhaps.

"Was it good?"

A thoughtful look crossed Clark's face, and he turned on his side, tucking an arm under his head. Biting his lower lip with delicious concentration, and Lex drew in a breath, hoping his coat was covering his physical reaction decently.

Or not. At this point, he couldn't be sure Clark would figure it out if Lex *did* push him on his back. Probably just look up at him with those wide, innocent eyes and ask in that curious voice what they were doing and would it be useful with Lana?

Well, that *would* be a good excuse....

Orange. Jumpsuits. 

"I think so."

"You're not sure?"

Clark shook his head, frowning.

"It--happened so fast. Then she pushed me out the window--tried to push me out the window, I mean--so the magic of the moment was sort of--you know, gone."

"Yes," Lex answered slowly. He had exes like that. "I suppose that might put a damper on things."

"And I've never--you know--kissed anyone else."

How sad. Lex took a moment to decide of Smallville was that utterly unaware of the existence of Clark Kent or if the entire town was, in fact, just anti-sex altogether. That would certainly explain a few things. By all rights, a boy looking like Clark should have been properly molested a *damn* long time before Lex ever appeared on the scene.

"It's not that complex, Clark." God, he was giving advice in kissing. This was a whole new low, even for him, and he'd really thought he'd scraped the bottom of the patheticness barrel with the proxy-stalking of Lana. 

"For you, maybe--you've probably kissed dozens of girls--"

Lex took a moment and tried to decide if that was accurate. The late nineties were still a little blurry.

"--but, you know, I'm already fifteen and I've kissed *one* girl. I mean--how can I--kiss Lana? She's--with Whitney."

Ah, insecure teenage angst, a la Dawson's Creek, which Lex was still never going to admit he watched. Oddly enough, insecurity in that sense was the one thing Lex had never had much of a problem with. Between his wealth and his father's name, people had been bending backwards to sleep with him since puberty. 

Literally. Highly flexible people, too, and Lex took a moment to enjoy some impromptu reminiscing before turning his attention back to Clark.

"Your friend--Chloe--you couldn't practice with her?" If that went through, Lex was going to promise Chloe a damn paper all her own when she graduated if he was allowed to watch. *That* would be a scene to amuse Lex for *years*. Hell, just the conversation *leading* to it....

"No!" To his surprise, Clark looked rather--appalled. As if Lex had mentioned running over puppies in his spare time. 

"Why not?"

"She's--she's a friend."

"And who better to ask than a friend?"

Clark's look of horrified disgust mellowed just a little, and he lapsed into a thoughtful silence. Lex idly found another cookie, noticing they were running low. Damn. Taking a bite, he looked up to see Clark's gaze fixed on him with a strangely intense expression.

"Lex?"

"Hmm?"

"Couldn't--couldn't you show me?"

Lex was very, very glad that he hadn't taken a bite of the cookie yet. Very carefully, he replaced it in the bag and very, very carefully, he examined what he'd thought Clark had just said.

"You want me to kiss Chloe to show you--" Because obviously, that was what he meant. Clark went scarlet. Okay, no, so that's *not* what he meant, which process of elimination led to--"Clark, you want me to kiss you?"

Lex loved Smallville. Loved. It.

A breathless second, and he could almost *see* the desperate calculations going on behind the hazel eyes, before Clark took a breath, letting it out.

"We're friends, right?"

At this point, Lex would give that one a definite yes. Forcing himself to remain still, he examined the plan from all angles. There weren't any bad ones. Lots of weird ones, granted, but no bad ones.

"Yes, Clark. Of course we're friends." Yes, Clark, best friends for life. If this is what it means, I'm all for it. Pity you'll never find a need for blowjobs in your future with Lana. "What did you have in mind? Explanation first or just a demonstration?"

Clark took a long serious moment to consider, then turned a shy smile up at Lex. No one should look that innocent and sweet and God help him, he was going to be composing bad poetry in just a few hours if this continued for any length of time.

"I guess just show me."

"Hmm."

Now, there was a theoretical difference between seducing someone--which Lex was quite good at--and going about this in such a bloodless fashion. Lex considered the boy leaning uncomfortably into the windshield, then straightened.

"Sit up."

With rather flattering speed, Clark sat up, one hand nervously running through his hair. Lex took a moment to appreciate the view, then slid closer, reaching out and cupping the strong jaw.

"It's very easy."

"Okay." Every muscle in Clark's body was tensed, and Lex sighed to himself.

"Close your eyes."

A quick nod, and the hazel eyes shut tight, lips a soft line, and Lex leaned forward, lightly brushing his lips against Clark's. Silky smooth, just perfect, and Lex held the touch for a moment before pressing a little. Nothing. Slowly, carefully, licked along Clark's bottom lip, catching it between his teeth, and if he wasn't mistaken, Clark sighed a little.

This was just surreal. He could easily get into this moment. Far too easily. Leading to--other things, and this was the Kent *driveway* and that was mattering less by the minute.

Public showers, Lex. Orange jumpsuits. Bad food. 

Lex leaned back and drew in a breath of cool air. It wasn't helping.

"Lex?"

He sounded--disappointed. Couldn't have that. Lex leaned forward again, pressing a little harder, licking at the closed line of Clark's lips and they opened hesitantly, a little breathlessly. Lex eased his tongue between, sliding to lick the space behind Clark's lower lip, and another soft little sigh, and Lex was *in*.

The taste of cookies and soda and Clark himself, addictive and so soft, and Clark's hands were suddenly *touching* him, pressed into his shoulders with a rather surprising amount of strength as Lex shifted closer, licking inside that amazing mouth. Winding his tongue around Clark's and Clark--Clark *groaned*, no other word for it, moving suddenly until his body was against Lex's, practically in his *lap* and both hands were on Lex's head. Clark's tongue slipping into his mouth, and Lex couldn't help sucking on it, getting another low groan and a push against anatomical portions of Lex's body that didn't give a good fuck about the color orange or barred windows or the problems inherent in public showers with bars of slippery soap.

A few long, delicious minutes, and Clark pulled back, licking his lips with the tip of that highly talented tongue and then, to Lex's immense disappointment, sliding back onto the hood of the car and grinning.

"That was great." Touched his lips with the tip of his finger, and Lex blinked a little, almost ready to pull him close again when he said--. "You think--you think Lana will like that?"

It was only the brilliance of approaching Kent headlights that saved the eighty-five thousand dollar Ferrari from the indignity of repeated bangings of Lex's head, as he slowly picked up the cookies and reconsidered the possibilities inherent in simple assassination.

"I think so, Clark."

Lex. Hated. Smallville.

The End


End file.
